Memoirs of Lara
by Lali Kaye
Summary: Alex is assigned to an unusual case inside of MI6, trying to get a hostage to talk. It isn't until she mutters his name and mentions another Rider when he begins to try harder to get her to talk.
1. Silent Trauma

**Chapter One: Silent Trauma**

**Lara Domovoi was captured by a notorious gang called Cobra (a group of young men trying to mimic Scorpia). They tried to ransom her, but they were forced to leave her behind after MI6 invaded their base. **

**Now, in their custody, Lara is traumatized; she can't speak, and her eyes always look scattered. She won't talk to anyone, even the best psychologists couldn't get her to talk. But Mr. Blunt has an idea who can. If only he would agree….**

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She remembered how they tied her up to the chair and gagged her. She remembered how they had beaten her to weaken her out, and she remembered the video camera that was placed in front of her. She couldn't help but cry. She stopped trying to act strong; these men were going to kill her. She whimpered, shaking. She remembered how they said they were going to kill her if they didn't give them the money in three hours. She remembered how sickly and cold the blood felt trickling down her face. She remembered everything, yet she said nothing.

Mr. Blunt's grey eyes looked past her long, wavy, ebony hair into her timid hazel eyes.

"I know what they've done to you is dreadful, and I know how traumatized you, but we can't do anything unless you talk to me." She just stared back at him. Mr. Blunt stared back. A tear ran down her face and onto the silver table.

"_Ernstige manieren_," she whispered.

"What?" Alan Blunt asked, and pushed the tape recorder closer to her.

"_Ernstige manieren_," she rasped, "_De Manieren van Kwaad_… _Maneiras sérias_… _Lugar Secreto_… _Ort von Unicon_…" She went silent and coughed. Alan Blunt whispered something in his earpiece.

"_Ernste Weisen, Ernste Weisen…Die Weisen des Übels!_" She was shaking. That was all she could give them. She collapsed in her chair. Mr. Blunt nodded.

"Take her to the doctor. Have them check her DNA and see if you can see what these words mean." he said into his earpiece.

"_She must have been shaken. Those words may be a clue to where she was. We know from her father that she spoke plain English. Those words, I think, were a mixture of Dutch, Portuguese, and German_." said a female voice into his earpiece.

"Very well. Get what you can out of her." he said. With solid movements, Alan Blunt left the small, grey, dark questioning area, as a team with a stretcher came in and collected the frail girl. If Alex didn't agree to work on this next project, this girl was going to have to do.

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**Hmmmm…whaddya think? Well, I need you guys to tell me if this story is worth writing or not. I've got some of the plot ready, but it's up to you to tell me to post it or not! Reviews are a helpful way to communicate! Luve you all.**


	2. The Therapist

**Chapter Two: The Therapist**

**Haha! I couldn't wait for reviews, so I decided to put up the second chappie anyways! Tell me watcha think! **

_**Kodocha RULES!**_

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Alex couldn't believe it. MI6 had called him in again, and he was furious. Can't they find someone more dedicated to clean up the world's messes? He made his way to the bank that was really MI6, and angrily made his way to Mr. Blunt's office. How could they disrupt the start of his summer?

Alex opened the door to see Mr. Blunt and Mrs. Jones sitting at a long desk, waiting for him. Alex sighed.

"What do you want from me, now?" asked Alex, irritated. Mrs. Jones pushed a folder towards Alex.

"Just your cooperation," she said brusquely. Alex gave an aggravated grunt.

"This had better not be another assignment on the other side of the world." he muttered. "Or, should I say, in space?" he said, remembering how he destroyed Ark Angel, then shuddered at that man he killed with the map of the world tattooed on his body. Mrs. Jones cleared her throat and turned to Mr. Blunt.

"No, Alex. Your next assignment takes place here, in the M16 base," Mr. Blunt said, his grim eyes showing no emotion of the case. Alex was baffled.

"Are you serious? Do you want me to fix a broken light bulb that happens to be in a place where only a 14 year old boy can fit?" he spat sarcastically. Mrs. Jones heaved a sigh.

"Alex, please be reasonable, and take a seat." she said gently. Alex reluctantly did so, as Mrs. Jones carried on. "You seemed to make friends well at Point Blanc, am I right?" she asked. Alex nodded.

"I seemed to have more friends before I joined MI6. Oops, let me rephrase that; I seemed to have more friends before I was _forced _to join MI6." said Alex. Mr. Blunt ignored Alex's rant.

"We've understood that you have, or had, social skills with your peers before," he said, "and we want to ask you to use those skills to get this girl to talk." Alex opened the folder in front of him to reveal a picture of a girl with black wavy hair and deep brown eyes.

"It's Lara Domovoi." Mr. Blunt said, "thirteen years old, came from Mexico City, and moved to England when she was just a year old. Winning the National Spelling Bee, Speech Contest, and being the Vice President of her high school Student Council, she was very outspoken before the incident."

Alex looked at the picture closely. The thirteen year old girl looked so cheerful. The picture was a school picture, and she looked relatively happy. She looked like anything could get her to talk.

"What do you mean _the incident_?" Alex asked.

"She was captured by a group of men that call themselves the Cobra." Mrs. Jones answered.

"What are they, a mockup of Scorpia?" asked Alex, scoffing at the thought.

"Exactly," replied Mrs. Jones. Alex fell silent. "They captured her, did every possible vulgar thing to do to her, and tried to ransom her. We were able to invade their base, but we only found Lara and no evidence of anyone being there." Mrs. Jones explained.

"We've tried to get her to talk," said Mr. Blunt, "but she just keeps uttering things in Portuguese, Dutch, and German, saying _serious ways, the ways of evil, secret place, and place of unison_." he finished. Alex smirked.

"Have you ever thought she has a mental illness?" he requested slyly.

"We've checked her health, and she's completely healthy." Mr. Blunt stated. "But we can't get her to talk. We even hired the best psychologists in the world, but even they can't get her to talk." Alex was stumped.

"What do you want me for?" he asked. "To be a therapist?" he joked. The faces of Mrs. Jones and Mr. Blunt were serious.

"Why, yes, Alex," Mrs. Jones said. Alex gulped.

"What makes you think I can get her to talk?" he demanded.

"We don't know," said Mr. Blunt, "but you've done very well on impersonating and disguising, and we're sure you can try to talk to this girl and convince her to talk to us."

"I don't see why this is necessary," he said. "Summer's just started, and I just want to relax, not come here very day to try to get this mental girl to talk." he blurted.

"Now Alex, we're only asking for your partial commitment," Mrs. Jones said, "we're asking you to help someone just like you."

"I'm not mental," hissed Alex. Mrs. Jones clicked her tongue.

"Alex," she said sternly, "she has mentioned your name, along with your uncle's. She also mentioned a person named Rachel Rider. Does that name mean anything to you?"

Alex froze.

"Alex?" Mrs. Jones asked.

"Alex. All we need is for you to ask a couple of questions, and you're out of here." said Mr. Blunt. Alex nodded.

"I'll be here tomorrow." he said, his voice showing no emotion.

"See you at 10:00," said Mr. Blunt.

Then the teenage spy walked out the door.

"You shouldn't have told him about Rachel Rider." said Mr. Blunt. Mrs. Jones sighed.

"It was the only way we'd get him to come."

"And how do you know that?" asked Mr. Blunt. Mrs. Jones' lips tightened and she sighed.

"You would know, too, if you lost someone close to you." snapped Mrs. Jones, walking out of the room.

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**There ya go. This chapter may have seemed a bit slow, but it gets waaaaaay better if you review!!! Aha, well, next chappie coming up, and I'll dedicate it to the person who reviews this chappie:D**


	3. NOTE

Hello everybody, it's me, Lalika!

I posted up Chapter Three, but I minutes after I did, I removed it.

To those people who already read it, it might've been a spoiler for the next couple of chapters, but to those who didn't, THANK GOD YOU DIDN'T!

I removed it because I didn't like how fast paced it was. Please tell me (if you are a fan of this story) if you would like me to go fast, slow, or kinda in between. Right now, I have the chapter done, but I'm unsure what to do with it! I'm definitely sure I need to change it, but I'm not sure of the pace I want to go at! (Aren't I weird? I can't make up my own mind! Maybe it's all that huffing and puffing in weight room in PE at school XD!!)

Please have patience with me, because I have tests coming up, and studying is really hard! Well, chapter three will be up within this week. I'm sorry I'm not going fast!

With all sincerity and hopes,

Lalika Kimpapkona --;-

P.S. If I don't have chapter three in by next week, you can whack me over the head with a mallet JK.

P.P.S. I'll try my VERY BEST to get it up ASAP!


	4. The Discovery

**Chapter Three: They Come for You, First**

**Hahaha! FINALLY to chapter three! WARNING: This chapter may be long, mysterious, surprising, and, depending on how you enjoy things, interesting and awesome (I don't like praising myself). Well, I don't think you would be reading this if it weren't for my reviewers!**

**Thanks to my reviewers! You guys are the best (don't be surprised on your birthday to receive a special present from me—well, don't expect any, jk!). **

**Ooh! Did I say I was going to dedicate this third chapter to the person who reviewed my story first? Well, yeah! So here it goes:**

**_I hereby dedicate this chapter, _Mind Over Matter, _to Demonic Heaven Medium for being the first reviewer of my first two chapters:D_**

…**And SPECIAL THANKS to all my other fabulous, awesome, cool reviewers!**

**Shaz (Unique name, almost like my friend's!)**

**monkeywithapen (Cute name, monkey!)**

**MistariaPotter (Harry Potter fan, if I'm not correct?)**

**MadzCheesyfield and (Funky name! How'd you come up with it?)**

**DentedHeart**

**You guys are the best! (Can I say it any more times?) You can be the best, too, if you review! XD**

**Well, on with what you came to this story to read… CHAPTER THREE: MIND OVER MATTER!!!**

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Alex didn't have a good sleep that night. He kept on wondering how that girl –Lara Domovoi—knew someone related to him. He 'woke up', got dressed, and made his way downstairs where his _nanny_, Jack Starbright, was preparing breakfast.

"Come on, Alex. Sit here and eat." she coaxed. Alex shook his head.

"Not now, Jack." he said, waving the scrumptious meal of eggs, bacon, and toast away. "MI6 has something I need to get to, quickly." With that, he sternly walked out the door and hopped on his bike.

"Hmm. Strange. That's the first time I've ever seen him in a hurry to work." Jack muttered to herself. After a few moments Alex had gone, she pulled out her wallet to reveal a picture of a person, who looked a lot like Alex. Jack sighed, folded and put back her wallet, and ate Alex's breakfast for him. She couldn't let such a good breakfast go to waste. She would have to tell him soon, before it was too late.

…

Before they came for him.

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**Later on at MI6**

Alex drummed his fingernails nervously on his knee. Waiting in the whitewashed hallways of MI6 outside a door where Lara Domovoi was being prepared to talk, he couldn't stay still. He was just moments away from talking to her, the girl, who could explain to him how she knew Rachel Rider. Alex didn't know what to talk to her about besides that matter. How did she know Rachel Rider?

Alex sighed. Whatever happened to that ordinary, everyday schoolboy who was fretting about homework? Well, to Alex, that schoolboy disappeared long ago. Now, that schoolboy was replaced with a person Alex didn't know himself; he was replaced with a person who was bitter towards almost everything. He didn't know what he had become, only who he was supposed to be. He was Alex Rider, a spy for MI6, a teenage spy at that. But who was he really supposed to be? Could Rachel Rider be the one he's been waiting for to explain it all to him?

Alex gave a start when Mrs. Jones came out of the door.

"Alex?" she asked. Alex stood up from his chair.

"Yes," he said. Mrs. Jones looked sternly at him.

"I want you to know that this matter is not going to be taken lightly," she started, her voice monotonous, "and I want you to know that if you make Miss Domovoi panic or exhausted, it will prolong our investigation."

"Any suggestions?" asked Alex, internally trying to hurry Mrs. Jones.

"She's improved significantly since Mr. Blunt talked to her a week ago–which means a lot–, so she's a little out of the clouds, now."

"So she's only partially mental now," Alex joked. Mrs. Jones' didn't react.

"Still, I suggest you take it slow with her. She may blurt out a sentence or two in Dutch, German, or Portuguese, or maybe a sentence in a mix of the three, but she can understand and speak plain English. You can talk to her about anything, but whatever you do, don't mention Rachel Rider." Alex was stunned. That was practically the only reason he came here for.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Three days ago when we asked her about it, her heart almost failed before falling into a temporary coma." Mrs. Jones said abruptly. Alex gritted his teeth and grimaced, yet was just itching to ask the girl about Rachel Rider.

"So what do I talk to her about?" questioned Alex. Mrs. Jones' gaze turned thoughtful, and handed him a folded piece of paper.

"Here are the names of all her friends, family, teachers, and her school. Ask her about everyday life. Ask her how she's doing, what she wants to do in her life, just things to make her more comfortable talking. Ask her how Petals, her fish, is doing, or how she feels going into grade nine. Ask her how Larissa's doing."

"Larissa—her best friend." Alex muttered, looking at the unfolded paper.

"Also, take these," she said, handing him a black notebook and a tape recorder, "it may be useful if she starts rambling on about something important." Alex took the tape recorder and notebook from her.

"Not the kind of fantastic, mind-boggling gadgets I'm used to, but I guess it'll work about the same." he said. Mrs. Jones chuckled.

"I'm sure you'll do good." Mrs. Jones assured. Alex nodded.

"If I can escape a shark, avoid being adopted by a madman, and save the world, this is a piece of cake." he said. The side of Mrs. Jones' lip curled up.

"A rather thick piece of cake, Alex." she said, opening the door to Lara's room and letting Alex walk in. "A piece of cake where the surprise lies after all the sweet layers." Alex raised an eyebrow in confusion and turned around to ask her what she meant, but he only found a pallid door. Could she have said something in code?

"Hello?" came a frail voice from behind him. Alex turned around slowly, and was partially shocked about what he saw.

The girl sitting on the hospital bed that lay before him had black hair, alright—but it was dull, and only half as wavy as it was in her school picture. Her pale, delicate skin was scarred with bruises and cuts, and on her left temple laid a five inch scar. Her lips were cracked with dehydration and Alex could hear her raspy breathing from where he stood on the other side of the room.

Hallo, sind Sie gut?" the girl asked in German. _'Hello, are you alright?' _translated Alex.

"Yes, I'm al…" he started, yet stopped when he looked into her eyes, eyes that were so broken and scarred from her recent events. 'What did Cobra do to her?' wondered Alex. In spite of her saddening, distressing appearance, she smiled warmly.

"Wat is uw naam? Have a seat!" she asked in a Dutch accent. Alex made his way to the school chair beside her bed.

"Alex," he said quietly, smartly leaving out his last name as not to remind her of Rachel Rider. The girl stirred in her bed, her eyes rolled back into her head, and for a moment, Alex thought she was going to pass out. But she didn't. Instead, she let out a long breath and lifted a white, bruised and cut hand to Alex.

"I'm Lara Domovoi." she said. Alex shook her hand. Alex may have shook hands with a dead girl, because Lara's hand was rough and cold. Alex shivered furtively. Silence introduced itself, while Lara looked intently at Alex. Alex tried not to look at her thoughtful gaze.

"You've been through a lot, haven't you?" she asked. Alex nodded.

"Yes, I have." mumbled Alex, kind of frightened at how this girl knew. Maybe it was evident that he had been through a lot. Maybe he was a more subtle version of Lara. Lara nodded, and then let out a small chortle.

"My mom used to always tell me that when I came home from school," she said emotionlessly, her head tilting to one side and her eyes drifting into a greater space, "she always said I had the look of a dying rabbit caught in a trap without knowledge of the trap itself." Alex cleared his throat, and tried to stifle a laugh. A rabbit without knowing it's in a trap? He wrote down her statement, along with a little bunny with it's leg caught in the jaws of a trap.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well," started Lara forlornly, "she explained to me that it could relate to me." Lara smiled. Alex again tried not to chuckle. "I don't look like a bunny," she said, "but she said that I realized the snare I was in, but I didn't panic. In other words, I knew I was being bullied, but I didn't do anything to stop it." Alex was perplexed.  
"You were being bullied?" he inquired. "At school?" Lara nodded slowly.

"But it was a group of male seniors that were always harassing me," she said leisurely.

"What were they trying to get from you? Your money?" he asked. Lara sighed, and shook her head.

"I wish they were," she said. Then her pupils turned into slits. "They were asking me for Rachel Rider, the cousin of Alex Rider" she sputtered, then looked at Alex with fear in her eyes. Alex's eyes widened. Rachel Rider! He was surprised Lara didn't pass out by remembering it. So Rachel Rider was his cousin! Alex's rush of excitement quickly shrunk into a depth of despair. The seniors at Lara's school were looking for Rachel Rider. Could they be a threat? Could they be part of Cobra?

"They found her," Lara continued, and then she let out a choking shriek and started jerking in her bed. Alex quickly pushed the emergency button beside her bed. So much for not making her exhausted.

A team of doctors and nurses came rushing in only seconds after Alex pushed the button. Alex just sat there in disbelief that Rachel Rider was his cousin…and at the fact that there were men looking for her.

"Alex," Lara rasped, grabbing the collar of Alex's shirt and pulling him towards her, "Ihr Vetter ist die Tochter des Meuchelmörders" she whispered hoarsely into his ear. She whispered another sentence, and Alex face turned dead white. With that, Lara fell on the hospital bed, limp and exhausted. A doctor shooed Alex out of the room. assassin

Alex, lightheaded and caught off guard, quickly walked down the hallway straight for the elevator, running past Mrs. Jones and Mr. Blunt. He wanted to go home and tell Jack everything, and then maybe they could move somewhere, go somewhere, do anything to get away from here. Although Lara didn't say it in exact words, he knew what she meant.

"Rachel can't be." he whispered, the phrase about his cousin, Rachel Rider running through his head; _'Ih Vetter ist die Tochter des Meuchelmöders_. Then he remembered the last line about _him _that she whispered before she went limp.

"_Sie kommen für Sie…"_ A shiver went down Alex's spine. Alex then remembered what Lara said right after that. It was the sentence that made him go blank white, a phrase that told him that he had little time left.

"_Sie kommen für Sie,…"_

…

"_They come for you..."_

He pressed the button to call the elevator up.

Then bullets rained on MI6.

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**AHAHA! Well, left ya hanging, did I? I'll give you a hint; the sentence Lara said about Alex's cousin is in German, as is the phrase about him. The first person who finds it out and emails me what it is will receive a special prize…. a congratulations/'good try' from ME:D! JK, not that exciting, but you'll know. You'll get it if you know what the sentence means. You'll know why Alex is surprised at his cousin, and you'll know which a------n Lara meant. **

**HINT: **_Meuchelmöders _**means ASSASSIN, not MEUCHELMORDERS!! What the heck is meuchelmoders? JK. **

**Well, ta ta for now!**


	5. From Where the Shots Came

**Chapter Four: From Where the Shots Came**

**Tee hee hee! Well, chapter four, here it is! All apologies on being so late with this.**

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Alex turned around to face the ashen hallway. He heard four gunshots, and he swore he heard it at the end of the hall. Quickly he ran down to the very last door at the end of the hallway, aware that everything was quiet, and crouched to peer into the blinds that blocked the window into the room.

"Come on, you know that there's no point in playing hero," snarled a low voice from the room. "Well, you never know; it's one of those cards that haven't been played yet." Alex peered into the room. Seeing a sight that came scarcely on missions, Alex entered the room quietly. The room was vast; the metallic walls complimented the white ceiling and floor. Alex made his way behind the glass desk that was right next to the door and peered atop it.

"Well, don't we all flip the ace of spades once in awhile," Alex said coolly. The low voice chuckled and so did Alex. The source of the low voice was an overweight man stood in the center of the room beside the table. He was holding a small gun. Another shot was fired. Alex's eyes followed the bullet to the end of the room to a rubber man target, then back to the fat man a few feet away from him. It had been awhile since he'd seen him.

"I'd say I picked up the Joker," the fat man said, as he turned around to see Alex sitting in luxurious custom (you could imagine why) chair.

"Oh please, Smithers. Today I picked the so called _lucky _7."

"Hey, that's my chair your sittin' in, you know," Smithers said, as he picked up a remote and turned off the TV screen almost hidden in the wall. Alex stood up and made his way around the desk.

"How come movies are always at the climax where the robber robs the bank?"

"Just a little mood music to get me in my shooting mood." The two MI6 agents shook hands.

"Oh, Alex," a very jolly Smithers said, "nice to have you drop in. Haven't seen you lately!" he exclaimed, putting the small black handgun down on his desk. Alex scoffed.

"Well, you know how it is. You only see me when MI6 needs me," he said curtly. Smithers frowned.

"Oh, they've got you on the Lara thing, right?" he inquired. Alex nodded.

"I have to admit, this kind of mission is kind of strange," Alex murmured. Smithers nodded with a thoughtful look in his eyes.

"Yes, it is. There hasn't been any case like this in years. In fact, I think this is the first time when Mr. Blunt took in a nut case." Alex was shocked. He thought Lara might've been a little mental, but not a nut case. Surely Smithers wouldn't talk about kids that way. Adults, maybe, but teenagers?

"Why do you say that?" he asked Smithers, who was still looking into space.

"I say that, because I think she's just playing hooky, or she's a spy." he murmured, motioning to Alex to come into the corner of the tiny room to his desk. Smithers took out some files and lay them flat on his desk.

"I've done a little researching myself. I researched on Lara's symptoms, and I can say, they don't match up to any symptoms caused by trauma, except for the panic attacks." Smithers stated, opening some of the files with snippets of articles from newspapers, printouts from the Internet and such. "The bloodshot eyes and everything, it's really weird." Alex couldn't believe his ears.

"What? But Mr. Blunt said she was captured by Cobra, and they could've had inflicted those wounds. The scars and gosh, how skinny she is, it's just unnatural! There's no way she can act that ill." Alex cleared his throat, recognizing that his voice was elevating. "There's no way she can fake going into a coma, or even cardiac arrest." Smithers looked at him in the eye. _Back from space, _Alex thought.

"Well, it may be just me. Besides, I have a suspicion about that girl."

"What could possibly be so suspicious about her?" Alex snapped.

"Alex, you've got to remember that she might be an insider. You're right, Cobra might have caused her wounds and scars, but they might just do that to play in our hands." Smithers sighed with impatience. Alex nodded, seeing to where his friend was getting at.

"Like the time that guy created the terrorist gang, the man with the crazy world tattooed on his head? He had them kidnap his own son to make everyone realize how serious the terrorist group was, but it was all just a setup, a distraction," Alex nodded again, seeing the box fold out right in front of him.

"You see, that's what I mean," Smithers said, slapping the files and getting up from his desk, "because we have another big case on our hands." Alex was confused.

"What case?" he inquired. Mr. Smithers let out a sigh between clenched teeth as he walked around his glass desk and sat on his leather swivel chair, swinging this way and that.

"I don't even know. Mr. Blunt has been keeping a lot of things to himself lately. Heck, I don't know if it's mid-life crisis or dementia or whatever those old people get, but he's been acting a bit weird lately. Of course, you might've not noticed, since he's always so good at acting professional, but there are definitely things he's not telling me."

Alex pondered what the round man just said. He didn't notice anything wrong with Mr. Blunt, but as Smithers said; he's always so good at acting professional.

"I'll ask him about it later." stated Alex.

"Hey, but you didn't hear it from me!" Smithers said, his hands flying up in a defensive matter

"I'll try my best to make it sound like you're at fault." Alex mocked. After a chortle each, Smithers picked up the gun from where he lay it on his desk, and made his way over to the table in the center of the room.

"Well, you know what; I'm going to get back to work."

Alex scoffed, humored.

"And your work is target practice, if I'm not mistaken?" asked Alex.

"Well, you could say that," Smithers said, picking up the small, black handgun he had in his hand when Alex came in "they're letting me have more freedom in my office." Alex laughed meekly.

"I almost had a heart attack when I heard those gunshots."

"Ha ha. All the offices around me just can't stand my constant noise! Soundproof glass hasn't been thought up yet by them. You should hear what they said when I told them Mr. Blunt allowed it!" Smithers said sneakily, whispering the last sentence to Alex.

"Well, you see that I've been doing some side jobs, if you know what I mean." Alex looked back to the rubber man target near the back of the room that was on when he first came in.

"What kind of side jobs?" inquired Alex. Smithers grinned and displayed the sleek piece of black metal to Alex.

"This handgun is not an ordinary handgun, Alex."

"Of course; I don't think I'll ever see the day when Smithers makes an _ordinary handgun._" Smithers beamed.

"If you walk towards that target I set up over there, you'll see why." Alex and Smithers moved to the back of the room to see what the gun had inflicted on the dummy. Alex was puzzled at the four holes he saw in the dummy.

"What are those tiny silver umbrella things?" he asked, pointing at the four holes where five silver needles formed into a star to hold each hole in the dummy open, kind of like an umbrella without the long handle. Smithers let out a small laugh.

"Those, my boy, are the bullets." Alex took a second and peered closer into the bullet holes to examine the damage. The rubber was pierced and held open by five needles joined at the tip and spread out to stretch the rubber, kind of like a spider. The spider-like bullets were about two centimeters in diameter.

"Is that salt?" Alex asked Smithers, referring to the white stuff surrounding the hole in the dummy. Smithers nodded.

"Yeah, it gives a little torture to it," he chuckled.

"And why would MI6 want to torture anybody?" Alex asked. Smithers pursed his lips and gave Alex a thoughtful look.

"You're a smart boy, Alex. And a smart boy would know that a man like Smithers gets looked over sometimes." Alex rose and eyebrow. What was Smithers saying?

"What do you mean?"

"Well, like I said, I've been doing some _side jobs_, and I've been making a lot more than what I usually get; MI6 hasn't been getting a lot of money lately, and I think that's what partially got Mr. Blunt onto this whole Lara mess, not to mention his secretive secretiveness." Alex looked at Smithers with half-squinting, questioning eyes.

"You know, things get dangerous when these things start happening, selling stuff to outsiders." Alex said gravely.

"Oh, n-no no," Smithers stuttered, "outsiders? Nah—MI5 doesn't have this genius stuff. Some prisons pay well for it, and all that jazz."

Alex was still iffy about this whole 'other side' to Smithers, but he could trust this man.

"I'd better get going," Alex almost murmured, as Smithers fired another agonizingly loud shot at the dummy.

"Fare thee well my young friend," Smithers said elegantly, waving his hand in an equally elegant fashion.

"Until we meet again," Alex replied in an equally equal amount of elegance (lol).

With that, Alex left the room.

After a few more shots, Smithers sighed and headed back to his desk. He wondered why the Rider family had to be caught up in all this mess. Not only Ian and Alex, but the whole Rider family. If only he could tell Alex…

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Jack sighed and sat on the lavish couch in the Rider house. There wasn't much to do, since everything was taken care of. Even though Ian had been away for a long time, she missed how Alex would anxiously await the return of his uncle. Nowadays, it was just Alex whining about how MI6 always needed him, or, or…

Once Jack thought about it, that was the only subject that came out of Alex's mouth. He should be talking about his latest girlfriend (if he could ever have time and thought for that), or how he scored the winning goal in soccer or something.

_How could they do this to a kid, _Jack thought. She glanced at her watch. Alex should be home soon. Lunch was ready. Yes, she would tell him…after lunch.

**Ooooh, how I hate myself! Not so much of a cliffie, but I feel bad giving a second one to ya! Well, I haven't had any inspiration for a LOOOOOOONG time, so…yah.**

**Well, let me hear what you think!**

**LK.**


	6. Realization & Frustration

**Hello Party Peoples! Sorry for being too late on the up-dating…I've been suffering a TERRIBLE TERRIBLE TURTLE HARMFUL case of WRITER'S BLOCK!!!**

**Yes, creepy, but the few reviews I got pumped me up! **

**Thanks a lot, so here goes nothing!**

* * *

Alex left MI6 and continued home. He thought over his brief encounter with Smithers, and then his mind wandered off before his pleasant chat with him: Lara's statement. Alex tried to remember what she said. It was in German, but what shocked him?

Oh, yes…

First it was the discovery of Rachel Rider…

"_They were asking me for Rachel Rider, the cousin of Alex Rider… They found her…"_

Then it was the phrase, that phrase!

"_Ihr Vetter ist die Tochter des Meuchelm__ö__rders"_

Quickly translating it into German, the sentence said:

"Your cousin is the daughter of the assassin!"

To no surprise, Alex thought of the one person he knew who was an assassin:

Assasin Yassen.

Even though Yassen was dead, it shocked him to find out that his cousin, Rachel Rider, was the daughter of—

Wait.

A thought struck Alex. The thought struck him REALLY late. In fact, his little mingle with Smithers distracted him from the whole idea.

Yassen was his uncle.

…

"Really," Alex muttered to himself in realization, half believing his unintelligent and slow evaluation. Then again, there were many assassins in MI6 and elsewhere; it could be anybody else. He would have to talk to Jack when he got home.

Rounding a corner to his street, he checked his watch. The face told him 11:14. The summer heat was unbearable as there was not a cloud in the sky. Crossing the street, he ran from the hot outside into a cool, air-conditioned haven known as his home.

"Hey Alex!" said a cheerful, welcoming voice.

"Hey, Jack." he responded. The red head came out of the living room clad in blue capris and a white tank top.

"How was your mission?" she asked. "It's a bit odd that it's not somewhere else except this place, or that they don't tell ya to go undercover or something."

"Tell me about it," Alex muttered, kicking off his shoes and placing them in the closet beside the door. He looked up to see Jack frowning, a worried look plastered on her face."What?" he asked. She sighed.

"You're always so negative." she said. Alex took that as a blow to his position.

"Excuse me?" he asked, half insulted and half wanting her to clarify.

"N-no, not like that," Jack said, "I'm just so upset that they always want you to do things. I mean, I'm sure that there's some other fifty year old agent-who's-been-in-the-force-for-twenty-five-years who's dying to get the attention _and _missions you get. I guess, ever since that Stormbreaker mission, I've rarely seen you smile. Your attitude is so negative. You just complain about MI6. I should really go out there and give them a piece of my mind!"

"Oh trust me, Jack, this is an extraordinary mission. I found out some new stuff today, too." making his way to the kitchen, he heard Jack sigh again as she followed suit. 'I get this from a boy who's a secret agent instead of a schoolboy' she thought as Alex leaped onto a stool beside the island.

"Debrief the mission, Agent 007," Jack said sarcastically in a masculine voice, sounding quite like a Mr. Blunt.

"Mind if I have an early lunch before I tell you?" he asked. Jack scoffed.

"Mind if you have a late breakfast, yes you may." she commented. Alex reeled back to that morning when he didn't eat breakfast and his stomach growled.

"Thanks," said Alex, gratefully accepting the hamburger and fries made by the best _"nanny" _in the world.

"But you still have to tell me about it after you eat! I'll be in the living room," Jack hollered, flipping on the TV.

* * *

After washing his own dishes, Alex headed out to the living room where Jack was watching the news.

"You didn't tell me about your mission, Alex." Jack said. She was going to tell him about _it_, but she would have to see what kind of case/stress he was under before revealing _it_.

"Oh, _that_," Alex mumbled, "say hello to a new teenage psychiatrist/therapist!" he said, taking a bow.

"Huh?" said Jack cocking an eyebrow.

"Well, in short, there's this girl I have to get some information from. She supposedly got abused by a replicate of Scorpia, and I'm trying to get some of the info out of her, like some sort of teen-to-teen thing. She won't talk to Mr. Blunt, so they called me in. If you ask me, she's a total psycho, for she keeps passing out and having seizures and the like."

Jack ingested the whole thing until speaking, "Well, what did you find out?" she asked.

"Oh yeah; there's something I need to ask you about, which is something I found out." Alex stated, "do you know anything about Rachel Rider?"

Jack stared at him. She knew he would find out without her.

"Um…" she started, her mind deep in thought.

"So there is something you know," said Alex, smiling. Jack was not smiling at all.

"Listen, Alex, Rachel Rider is your cousin."

"Yes, that I know. And can you tell me a little more of what you're hiding? Because, frankly, I'm not really comfortable with you hiding the fact that Yassen Gregorvich is my uncle, especially with what I've been through." stated Alex.

"WHAT?" Jack exclaimed. Now it was Alex's turn to lift a brow.

"What, like you didn't know that? What else do you know about my family, and what else are you keeping from me?" Alex snapped, his voice elevating.

"Believe me, Alex, I was going to tell you right after you ate! I have no other secrets from you, and you know it!" Jack said. Alex scoffed sarcastically.

"Oh yes, of course you were going to tell me." Alex said, walking to the opposite end of the living room. "It's kind of hard to see that you have no other secrets when this comes up _just now_. Now spit everything out before I choke it out of you." Alex screamed.

…silence…

"_ALEX_! What is wrong with you?" Jack shouted, utterly shocked at what he said to her. 'He _must _be related to an assassin,' Jack thought.

Alex paused, recalling what he last said.

"I'm sorry, Jack," he said, his voice down to its normal level, "it's just, I've been impatient since this morning about asking Lara more about Rachel, about me, about how she knows us, but Mrs. Jones and Mr. Blunt tell me not to bring it up."

"Lara, the girl you're talking to." said Jack, trying to avoid the frustration Alex was under. Maybe she would tell him the rest later.

"Yes," said Alex, sighing. A moment of silence crept in between them as Jack's cell phone rang the little tune of Fur Elise.

"Just a second, Alex." she said as she rushed to the kitchen to get her phone on the counter.

While Jack began talking to a long lost friend who was on vacation from America, scheduling a movie, bowling, and dinner with the friend, Alex decided he would just rest on the whole Rachel Rider fact for a bit and play some bowling on his Nintendo Wii…

* * *

**MI6, Mr. Blunt's Office **

A grey haired man stood sat on a grey leather chair behind a grey desk tapping a grey pencil on a vanilla folder containing the details of the latest case Alex was working on. It was a big mistake getting Alex involved. Although he was a smart one, Mr. Blunt should've recognized the fact that Alex was more interested in his personal family information than he is about finding Cobra. Mrs. Jones did say that Alex would try harder if he had a goal, and she was right. Alex definitely wanted to try harder, but in the wrong direction.

The mutterings of Rachel Rider were very interesting, though. What if the Riders did have something to do with Cobra? With Lara? She muttered Ian Rider, Rachel Rider, _Serious Ways, Ways of Evil, Secret Place_…It all sounded like something out of a thriller/horror movie. They had the creepy-looking girl, they had the conspiracy; all they needed was some lights, cameras, and Peter Jackson. He would have to write a report list of questions for Alex to ask Lara first thing tomorrow. If there's one thing he didn't like, it was not knowing anything vital. Right now, Lara had things floating around in her head that were very, very valuable.

Mr. Blunt glanced at his watch. 11:30pm on a worknight. No matter, because he would be there all night anyways, like he had been doing the past couple of weeks.

God only knows if that girl will talk to Alex before it happens…

before they come for him.

* * *

**Oooooooohhhh, creeeeepy! I know it's getting a little tacky/annoying/cheesy/retarded, that whole "**_**they come for you" **_**thang, but honestly; is Lara really the person to believe? Is she really sick? Is Alex just overreacting? Is Lara actually sick but I'm just trying to get you to think she's not to get you hyped up? Maybe. ****Mwahaha! Honestly, this plot is just fleshing itself out on its own, and I don't know where It's gonna take me! ****Quite frankly, I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing… well, **_**you **_**should.**

**AAAAAANNNNNYYYYYYYWWWWAAAAAAAYYYYYYSSSSSSSSS…**

**Next chappie will be up soon, because that writer's block I just had just wore off! Next chap details: **

**Alex gets more questions in answers and more answers from questions, ****MI6 is not a trusty agency, ****More bunnies in traps, ****Video cameras...**

**Hmm...doesn't give you a lot, eh? Well, wait and see!**

**Fare Thee Well,**

**LK.**

**PS: Where do you think I got Lara's last name from???**

**PPS: DO YOU GUYS LIKE: Choice A)One long chapter and a long time to update or Choice B) Small Chapters frequently updated. PLEASE! I NEED YOUR INPUT!!**

**PPPS: Today is a beautiful day, because you read my story!!! ******** XD**


	7. Getting Nowhere Fast and a Prank

**Hello peoples! This has gotta be the fastest time I've updated in a loooooong time!! I'm only a bit into summer, and who knows what I might do with homework well away from me!!!! Well, here's another SHORT chapter: the verdict's in, short chapters frequent updates, so ENJOY!**

**Review if you're the best in the world (which you ALL ARE! MWAH!)!!**

**LK**

* * *

**MI6, Lara's Quarters.**

It was all coming back. The men, the knives, the torture. The serrated knife came again to her memory, dragging along her face, her flesh ripping open so slowly, the warm blood cascading down her face bringing its coppery scent with it. Every punch, every kick, every slap…and this stupid organization said she was healthy.

And who was the cause? Who got her into this mess? Who was the one who could've done something about this?

Lara sat up in her bed, darkness surrounding her. A laugh void of humor escaped from her smiling lips. Lara really wished there was something she could do.

"You did cause me a whole lot of your trouble, didn't you?" she said to the darkness. When no one answered, she trembled in fury, and screamed. "One more thing: before disappearing and before emotionally vomiting on someone else's shoes, try telling them that there's a bunch of thugs on your case! I believed you and I didn't tell anyone so I could protect you! What did you do to protect me, eh? What did you do while the crap was being kicked outta me?" Lara's anger sped down her cheeks and onto her hands.

"And now you've got this guy on my case, and there's only God knowing what I'll do to make him believe you were a sick little person you really are." Wiping her tears with the back of her hand, Lara looked up to the ceiling.

"You know what? There's only one reason I'm not talking, and that's because I'm never gonna let them find you. I'm gonna let you stay there until they find your sorry little dead behind and bring you up here. Then I'll spill my guts. Then I'll let everything out, as soon as you're dead as he is…"

Rasped breathing echoed in the room…

"…as soon as your dead as he is…"

Little did Lara Domovoi know that the red blinking light in the top right hand corner of her room was taping everything she said…

**

* * *

**

**The Next Day**

Alex woke up at 9:50. He literally leaped out of bed, jumped into his clothes and ran down the stairs in ten seconds flat.

"Makesuremylatebreakfastisreadyattwelve!" he jibbered to Jack, who barely had time to digest the information, holding her coffee.

Alex grabbed his bike and headed for MI6. The questions in his mind yesterday were killing him, and he had to know them. Better yet, he needed to confront Mr. Blunt about something that was making him pedal his bike at lighting speed…

**

* * *

**

**At MI6…**

Although through many vain attempts, Alex wasn't able to get through to Mr. Blunt. He was ushered by security personnel to 'his station': a white chair in a white hallway in front of Lara's door.

Waiting for Mrs. Jones, he took out the black notebook that Mrs. Jones gave him out of his pocket. He flipped to a fresh page, writing down the questions that plagued his mind ever since yesterday, but he started out with more mild (yet inquisitive) questions, just to get her going.

As if almost on cue, Mrs. Jones came out of Lara's room just as Alex finished writing down his questions.

"Good morning, Alex," greeted a very business-like Mrs. Jones holding a folder. She was wearing a cream jacket along with a matching skirt cropped at the knee. The familiar smell of mint lingered around her.

"Same to you," Alex chimed.

"I'm sure you're eager to get in there, but after what happened last session, I trust that you'll be more careful in your choice of questions," she said in a very motherly way. Alex nodded.

"Of course," he said, "in fact, I've—"

"That's why Mr. Blunt has given you a list of questions to ask her," Mrs. Jones said, pulling out a sheet of paper from the folder she was carrying, "I trust that you will have most of the answers in _before _she has another attack."

Alex exhaled loudly, "Yes, I'll do better this time." he said, glancing at the questions which had no use to him personally, but fully to Cobra. "

"Very well then, on your way." Mrs. Jones said, opening the door for Alex to go in. With a nod, Alex stepped into the room.

"One last thing," he said, turning around to face Mrs. Jones, "have you noticed anything wrong with Mr. Blunt lately?"

Her face was unsure, and worried, "So you've noticed, also?"

"It is that evident," Alex said. Mrs. Jones sighed.

"We'll talk later. Go on," she said. Alex nodded and proceeded into the pallid room.

Lara was in the same condition he saw her in last time.

"Hey, Lara," he greeted, making his way to the pale chair beside her bedside. Lara's black eyes were glazed over and as if looking at something behind Alex. Her white hospital gown was like a wrinkly tent over her thin frame, her hair serving as a very pale night sky and her face, as pale as the moon. Alex was relieved that the cuts were healing, but took notice of the five inch scar along her temple.

He just stared blankly at her for a few moments, neither of them noticing how long they sat there for. It was when Alex's notebook fell on the floor that he picked it back up again and started asking her questions.

"So, Lara," he began, "how are you doing in school?"

This time, Lara wasn't so talkative as she was last time. Her eyes went to her hands.

"What subjects do you like?"

Again, she just stared at her hands.

"I mean, I like PE, 'cuz soccer is my sport, and...the _spelling bee_! Oh, I just love the competitions on TV! They're so intense, and who can spell a word like pneumonoultramicroscopics-whatever," he said, in an attempt to get her interested to speak. His enthusiasm was bogus.

Silence seemed to be overjoyed right now.

"Okay, Lara, there's no way you want to be here right now. If you tell me everything right now, I promise you, I'll do everything I can to get you out of here fast."

The ringing in his ears was enough to make anyone go mad. Alex made his way to the door. He was too damn impatient to wait for this girl to talk.

"Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis?" she blurted. Alex's head whipped around.

"What?"

"Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis: P-N-E-U-M-O-N-O-U-L-T-R-A-M-I-C-R-O-S-C-O-P-I-C-S-I-L-I-C-O-V-O-L-C-A-N-O-C-O-N-I-O-S-I-S. A kind of lung disease caused by breathing in certain particles."

This time, silence took its toll on Alex.

"Um…what about ringhals?"

"Ringhals: RINGHALS. A kind of snake that spits venom into it's prey/enemies' eyes that can cause immense pain or blindness. Related in some way to the cobr…"

Alex sat back in his seat, "Related to the…?"

"C-cobra," Lara stuttered.

"Yes," Alex said, trying to see what he could say that would get him information from the Cobra to Rachel Rider, "what else do you know about the Cobra?"

Lara looked up at him, terror in her eyes.

"It's highly venomous, s-severely highly venomous, and it can f-flat-flatten its neck t-to m-m-make a hoodlike ap-p-ppearance when it is d-disurbed-d…"

"Okay, what causes them to get disturbed…?"

"They get disturbed when…"

* * *

**Mr. Blunt's Office**

"I've recovered the tape from Lara's room," Mr. Blunt said to Mrs. Jones, "and it gives away some vital information." Mr. Blunt put in the tape in a VCR (VCR? wth?) and pressed play.

After viewing the tape, Mrs. Jones nodded, "So she won't talk unless the person she's talking about is dead. How quaint." She looked up at Mr. Blunt.

"I have a plan," Mr. Blunt said, a grin plastering his face the first time since he played a prank on his mother…yes, _a prank_.

* * *

**I know, not much (and ANTOHER EFFING CLIFFIE!!), but with frequent updates and praise/reviews/CONSTRUCTIVE & NICE criticism, I'll get more depth into me chappies, aye!**

**On another note... OMG! You HAVE to see this: go to http :// youtube . com / watch?v V1yT0bvqKfg (remove spaces…I dunno why you have to do that). ITS DISGUSTINGLY COOL! It just shows you how big an anaconda's mouth can stretch!**

…

**It's amazing what brothers can show you...**


	8. Cobra is On the Move

**Hellooo everyone! So, I've kinda ditched the idea of Lara speaking a mixture of Dutch, Portuguese, German, etc, but I'll try to bring it back in this chap. **

**Enjoy, and be happy!**

**-----------------------------**

**MI6, Lara's Quarters…**

Sitting for two hours, Alex didn't get anything notably related to Rachel Rider, nor Cobra. Since he mentioned the spelling bee, she just started spelling things out and giving the definitions. Not only in English: German, Portuguese, and Dutch, too. Alex tried to ask her questions about her school or about her life, but she just didn't say anything or she would spell another word.

"Educational system. E-D-U-C-A-T-I-O-N-A-L S-Y-S-T-E-M. Educational system. A system of stimulating a mind's brain!" Lara would say, and then start laughing hysterically.

Although her freakiness, weirdness, psycho-ness, and overall insaneness didn't just annoy Alex, it was frustrating him even further. He was practically killing himself over wanting to know more about his family, since they weren't alive to tell him.

The questions Mr. Blunt gave him were to no avail, either: Who is Cobra? Did they tell you about any places? What were they wearing? What did they sound like? What did they look like? They were all questions that would cause her 'a major panic attack' or whatever. Mr. Blunt should know better, should not he? Wasn't it just yesterday that he was told to keep the questions on the DL and not get her into a panic attack? Seemed to Alex that MI6 –or Mr. Blunt, rather—was in a hurry to get some information quick.

After saying goodbye to Lara, and Lara spelling _goodbye _in German back, Alex stormed out of Lara's quarters and made his way into Mr. Blunt's office.

And no 'security guard' could stop him.

--------------------------------

**Mr. Blunt's office…**

In this grey office, a grey man sitting on a grey leather chair tapped a grey pencil on a grey desk on a vanilla folder just like he had the previous night. The face of the woman sitting in front of him showed an emotion of uncertainty with her hands on yet another folder on her lap.

"This will work, Mrs. Jones," said a very confident Mr. Blunt. Mrs. Jones sighed and frowned at him.

"I do admit, given the evidence, that she will talk, but—"

"But what, Mrs. Jones?"

"But I don't think this is the morally right thing to do to Lara." said the mint-scented woman. The grey-haired man scoffed.

"Well, I don't think the things Cobra did to her were morally right, either," he commented, "and besides; this is a way we can get her to release the pain in the comfort and satisfaction she expressed through the tape. I'll have everything ready in three days."

Silence plagued the room as it did Lara's.

"I fail to see the reason to rush this whole operation, Mr. Blunt. The last time I heard from the Head is to take as much time needed on this operation as possible. We have no leads; therefore we have no reason to catch up on one."

"That's exactly why we need to carry out this operation," argued Mr. Blunt, "to _get _some leads! This may be one of the biggest happenings yet!"

"This is no operation! This is a mere prank! And I do not see Cobra as being anything bigger than a group of people capturing wealthy children and ransoming them! There is no evidence that they are harmful to the public!" argued back Mrs. Jones. Mr. Blunt tsked.

"You know me and you know me well, Mrs. Jones," he said, "and I do not like to repeat myself. Smithers will get this project done in three days and we will execute the plan on the third day. Thursday. End of story."

Mrs. Jones pursed her lips together. Blunt was right, but he was wrong; even though she knew him well, he was acting like another person. Alex, on the other hand, was indeed right; there was definitely something wrong with Mr. Blunt.

Alex barged into Mr. Blunt's office.

'_Speak of the devil…'_

"You knew," Alex accused, pointing at Mr. Blunt, "you knew that Rachel Rider was my cousin. You knew that and you didn't tell me."

Mr. Blunt looked at Alex blankly. "Well, of course," he said, as if he was being asked if he worked for MI6.

"Why did you keep this from me?" he blamed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was sure that a smart boy like you would find out sooner or later." said the man, "Alex, now isn't a time to be childish. MI6 has to keep a lot of secrets away from their agents to protect them." he said, not looking up from the document he was reading.

"Yeah, first it was that whole matter about my dad, Ian, and Scorpia, and now this," declared Alex, "this agency isn't built on trust."

…

"Of course this agency isn't built on trust, Alex," agreed Mr. Blunt, "do you even know what the word _trust _means?"

"Trust. T-R-U-S-T. _To have or place confidence in, or to depend on_, according to Lara." Alex said, trying to explain what he was enduring for the past two hours.

"Yes, of course," said Mr. Blunt, totally oblivious to Alex's point, "and if this agency was built for people to depend on it, we wouldn't have agents out there trusting their own instincts and using their own skills for their own operations. _That_, Alex, is definitely why this agency is built on anything other than trust."

Alex couldn't help but feel defeated. Once again, the seemingly _legitimate _reasons were against him.

"Well if you don't tell me more about my family, I won't work with Lara anymore. That whack job Lara isn't giving any valuable information about Cobra _at all!_" threatened Alex. Mr. Blunt pursed his lips into a thin line (his attempt at a sneaky smile).

"Alex, if you stay in this mission, in three days you'll have your answer. In fact, I won't even need you to come until this Thursday." he said.

Alex was taken aback. Not come until Thursday?

"What?" he said, a facial expression somewhat relating to confusion. "What do you mean?"

Mr. Blunt again tried in feeble attempt to smile, "I mean you can waltz home right now and not show your face here until ten o'clock Thursday, three days from now. Don't you even come near this place until then—and that is a command. I will guarantee your questions answered by then."

Alex looked to Mrs. Jones, who hadn't said a thing since Alex came in. Her eyes didn't meet Alex as her face was emotionless, as if trying to hide something. Mr. Blunt was definitely acting weird, and Alex would have to have to talk with her later.

"Very well then," murmured Alex, "Thursday it is."

Alex walked out of Mr. Blunts office without another word. Mr. Blunt looked over at Mrs. Jones, who was assembling the folder in her lap and getting up from her seat.

"We are getting Alex too deep into this project, _again_. You are using his zealous attitude towards knowing more about his family to fuel your operation. Aren't you ashamed for manipulating his feelings into proceeding with this investigation?"

Mr. Blunt shook his head, "Oh, Mrs. Jones. It was not I who manipulated him in the first place." Mrs. Jones looked up at him with a questioning glance as he continued, "It was _you _who mentioned the existence of Rachel Rider, Mrs. Jones."

Mrs. Jones blinked in realization as Mr. Blunt walked slowly to exit his office, his grey shoes padding on the grey carpet, leaving a grey feeling over MI6.

----------------------------

**The Rider House…**

Alex took his time walking home. He got there around half past twelve, and he saw Jack in the kitchen with some "late breakfast" for him.

Taking a bite out of his chicken sandwich, Alex eyed Jack suspiciously, who was unusually quiet.

"How was your date with your friend?" he asked.

"Oh, fine." Jack answered, not looking at him, her elbow on the island with her hand cradling her jaw, staring at a white napkin.

"Who was it?" Alex inquired, trying to get Jack back to her lively old self.

"What…who? Oh, Frank? Yeah, we went to high school together," she muttered.

"Why was he here?" Alex asked.

"He attended his grandmother's funeral. He's here until next week," came a monotonous Jack.

"Are you okay?" Alex asked her. Jack sighed and looked up at him.

"Well, I just feel really bad for not telling you about Rachel, Alex." she said. "I mean, I'm the only family you've got, and I'm not even related to you!"

Alex smiled, in spite of bringing up the fact of Rachel again. "It's alright. I'll get the answers by this Thursday, anyways." Alex was surprised when Jack didn't ask why.

"Well, here's a picture of her," Jack said, tossing a small school picture across the island. Alex immediately dropped his sandwich and picked up the picture.

She was the female version of Alex (A/N: she must be VERY pretty, cuz Mr. Pettyfer is _SMOKIN' HOT!!_). Her shaggy blonde hair was like a boys, tousled here and there for the bed head with the length just below her jaw line. Her refined jaw and thin lips were below her solid brown eyes. What surprised Alex was her age. She couldn't have been older than him.

"How old is she, by the way?" he asked Jack.

"Last time I checked, she turned 13 on the 18th of January," murmured Jack. Alex was really surprised. She was so young, and some people were after her…worse yet, the seniors at Lara's school were after her…even worse yet, they _found _her!

Alex's heart rate skyrocketed up. What could they've done to her? Why did they want her? Does Yassen have anything to do with this? Could the seniors in Lara's school be related to Cobra? Could they _be _Cobra?

Alex then relaxed himself. Lara told him that 'they found her' when she was very sick, when she passed out from just the memory. Now, she was more conscious (but still equally insane).

Frustration started brewing up in him again. Why did this investigation have to take so long?

--------------------------

**Later that Night…**

Licking an ice cream cone, Alex flipped on the television and the news was on.

"…Back to our main story: a grade seven graduation ceremony was recently terrorized by a group of men dressed in black with unusually high neck collars," said the plastic, blond-haired news anchor, "These men were after one of the graduates. Our sources say that she has short blonde hair with brown eyes. We can not state her name because she is a minor."

Alex's jaw dropped, and so did his ice cream.

"A person associated closely with the girl said that she noticed the victim was being followed by men she claimed were her distant bodyguards. Police are now questioning her on the appearance of these men. The victim was not caused any bodily harm, but it is said that she has locked herself in her home. More updates on this story as it unfolds. Back to you, Bob."

Alex quickly grabbed the remote, pressed rewind and recorded the whole news broadcast again (A/N: Yes, he does have one of those TVs). Could that girl be Rachel? Could what Lara said be a premonition?

"_They found her…"_

Could those men be Cobra? They are definitely Cobra…the "unusually high necked collars". He remembered his spelling lesson with Lara the day before.

"_C-cobra," Lara stuttered. _

"_Yes," Alex said, trying to see what he could say that would get him information from the Cobra to Rachel Rider, "what else do you know about the Cobra?"_

_Lara looked up at him, terror in her eyes._

"_It's highly venomous, s-severely highly venomous, and it can f-flat-flatten its neck t-to m-m-make a hoodlike ap-p-ppearance when it is d-disurbed-d…"_

"_Okay, what causes them to get disturbed…?"_

"_They get disturbed when…"_

Damnit! He didn't remember what she said! All he remembered was it was some bogus scientific answer. It must be Cobra.

He should go to Mr. Blunt! No…he was going to do this himself. He was going to prove to Mr. Blunt that he could trust himself, and not depend on MI6's gadgets, programs, and sources. Alex was going to figure this out by himself.

----------------------------

**Hmm…yesss… very mysterious I am. **

**Well, I don't know if they have Elementary school/High school curriculum in England or wherever Alex lives, but hey, it's just a story!!!**

**I apologize for the last chapter, though: it was soooo lame. I was kinda stretching the fact of **_**short **_**chapters and **_**frequent updates. **_**But now that I've got an actual story going and a proper plotline, I'll feed you guys these chappies with a flow!!!!**

**Anyhoo…can't say I'm not excited about how many people favourited mah story…AND added me to their FAVE Authors ! You guys are gonna live FANTASTIC lives, seriously. You know you're the best! LOL. And y'all with me **_**just**_**on yah Story Alert list, it's coming to you! **

**JK, well, if you guys got time, check out my Holes story "How It All Came Down to This" –it **_**is **_**one of my earliest stories, and it **_**isn't **_**as good as this one, but I need some encouragement/constructive criticism on how to make it better. I'm considering about rewriting it, too! **

**Well, Au revoir my party peoples!**

**LK - No Da!**

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**The (Not So) Hidden Tidbit!**

**Maybe it was my craziness, lameness, stupidness, weird-ness, or just plain "trying-to-be-funny"-ness, I put this here for those **

Featuring Mrs. Jones advertising Illicitly Mints.

Director: …and, take three thousand and one, ACTION!

Man Speaker: "Introducing the new Illicitly Mints."

Mrs. Jones standing in a white seamless room

Mrs. Jones: "If you have a job that takes your whole strength, like convincing 14 year olds to join a secret mission force, arguing with a dull, grey-haired old man, and being forced to live every day like it's your last, then you'll enjoy Illicit Mints."

Whips out green and blue rectangular pack of Illicit Mints and grins for the camera.

Mrs. Jones: "Not your regular Peppermints, Illicitly Mints: Mints so illicitly minty, they'll blow your bad breath away."

Pops a circular mint into her mouth and blows a kiss to the camera. She grins again.

Mrs. Jones: "It's not just minty, it's illicitly minty,"

Cellphone rings, Mrs. Jones answers it.

Mrs. Jones: "Yes? Alright, okay. See you there."

Puts phone back in her pocket.

Mrs. Jones: "Time to commence Operation Minty Hippo, and remember: It's not just minty, it's _illicitly minty_…"

flies up from the screen using jet-powered stilettos.

Mrs. Jones: "AAAAAAHHHHHH!"

CRASH; spotlight falls down from ceiling onto ground

Director: "…and CUT!"

---------------------

**Ahahaha…. that was my feeble attempt of a little commercial for either your amusement/pity. I know Mrs. Jones would probably not act like this, but hey, it's my first time, so crack a joke, eh?**

**Yours truly, **

**LK – No da!**


End file.
